Through Darkness and Revolution
by Stephy-Lou Clark-Weasley
Summary: sequel to Through Beaded Doorways and Rebellion. THREE-SHOT. Emma is struggling to fight for her rights as a woman as well as being a mother in the most difficult times to be one. warnings - sexism, character death, and depression.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: this is the sequel to Through Beaded Doorways and Rebellion and just like it's prequel it is inspired by the BBC's reality TV show where the families were forced to live out their ancestors lives in different eras. This is also a little more precious to me, I know very little of my mother's childhood and what I do know of it was enough it wasn't a good one. Due to this reality TV show I learnt that it wasn't just a difficult for my mother but it was very difficult to be a mother in the seventies. My Nanny had to hold three jobs just to make ends meet because she wasn't paid enough in her first, she had been persecuted for being a divorcee as well as a woman, and her second husband was not a better alternative, to make things worse she had to raise four children when England was at the brink of self-destruction. Therefore this Fanfiction is dedicated to some of the strongest women in my family, my mother, my two grandmothers (because no doubt my Granny Fiona had a difficult time raising her own children as well), and my aunt. **

Emma did not realise that she had been treated differently until she accidentally saw Billy Cox's pay check.

It had been a complete accident. She hadn't meant to snoop, she just found it on the bar, and couldn't help but notice he was paid a large amount more than she was. They worked the same afternoon shift and the same days of the week. There should be no difference in her pay check and yet there was.

She came home angry and ranted to George as he struggled to get Emily to eat her vegetables. "I'm sure your pay is a little low because you have been on maternity leave," George said in what he obviously thought was a reassuring tone.

"That was almost three years ago," Emma hissed, "and I was not on leave I had been fired it's only because there was no one else to help Billy on the afternoon shift that I got hired again. This is an injustice George!"

"Oh don't be so melodramatic, Emma," George rolled his eyes. He turned his attention back to Emily who was trying to slide under the table and escape from her greens. "Oh no you don't missy," he growled before pulling his daughter back up into her chair. "It's not as if you need the money Emma. Just let it be and help me with this infernal daughter of yours."

While George was right, there was very little need of the money as they were part of the dying breed of landed gentry and only worked out of boredom, Emma was incensed that he could be so callous about this. "It has nothing to do with the money!" Emma snarled. "It is everything to do with the principle of things! We have just stopped discriminating those with a different skin colour it's about time we stopped discriminating the fairer sex as well!"

"Are you going to save the Irish as well?" George asked amused.

"Urgh! You're incorrigible!" Emma screeched. "I'm going out, I've been invited to a Tupperware party and I have no doubt they'll be more understanding than you!" Emma stormed to the kitchen door and just before she left she turned round to face George, her face bright red with anger, "And I have you know she's _your _daughter as well!"

The door slammed behind her and the kitchen fell silent for a long minute as George and Emily tried to understand what just happened.

"Daddy...why is Mummy angry?" Emily asked.

"I don't know," George said bewildered, "eat your vegetables."

"Daddy...what is tub wear?" Emily asked.

"I don't know," George repeated feeling a little stupid now, "but if it has something to do with your mother then I have no doubt that it's nothing but trouble."

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

As it happened the Tupperware party was Jane Churchill's idea to help her aunt Miss Bates raise some more money to help pay her bills. The local married women gathered in Miss Bates' small living room and admired the plastic boxes and containers that would keep their food fresh. Emma sat through the painful long pitch Miss Bates stuttered into with Jane's encouragement. Out of pity Emma had already brought five different items in order to not just help Miss Bates out financially but make her feel good as well.

So then hopefully at the next Tupperware party no one will have to suffer nervous stuttering ever again.

As many of the older women herded around Miss Bates to enquire over the goods Emma turned to Jane and complained about her whole day. Over the last couple years the pair of them had bonded over the fact they were mothers, Jane had a darling little boy called Freddie, and she was the only one close enough for Emma to talk to with Isabella and Harriet were in London.

"Oh I know exactly what you mean," Jane sympathised with Emma, "I find it difficult to keep my job at the school every day since I had Freddie. The headmaster is always so patronising about it, are you sure we are not keeping you Mrs Churchill, would you not rather leave now Mrs Churchill, are we keeping you from feeding your son Mrs Churchill, if I had less patience I would snap and walk out of that school never to return again."

"I would have wrung his neck," Emma said, "so even with less patience you are still more patient than I am."

"We're luck you and I," Jane said with a small smile from Emma's dark humour, "we have husbands who support us and help look after our children, and even if they can't help out then we have relatives, most women aren't as fortunate and are forced to make ends meet from their husbands pay check if he hasn't drank it all away."

"Even so! Those who have the chance to work aren't getting their full pay," Emma said angrily, "some women are alone in the world with only themselves to take care of their children. How are they to make ends meet if they are not even getting the full pay they deserve? Something must be done about this!"

"You know there are societies and little groups all over the country fighting this injustice," Jane said with a slight mischievous glint in her eyes, "they are meeting in London to protest against lack of women's rights. It is this weekend coming up; we could go together if you like."

"It's been a long time since I did some shopping in London," Emma said with a sly smile, "I'm sure George will believe me if I told him I was shopping with Harriet."

"Harriet can come too if she wants," Jane grinned.

"What about Frank?" Emma asked. "Wouldn't he disapprove of your marching through London?"

"He doesn't get a say in anything," Jane said with some annoyance, "ever since '66 he doesn't dare tell me what to do. Too guilty."

Emma grimaced as she had a huge role in the incident of '66 when Frank acted like an arsehole and convinced the world he was all for free love and was having a fling with Emma. Emma had done absolutely nothing to stop the rumours (though in all fairness she was unaware of them) and caused more trouble by making it look like she was flirting back with him.

Ever since Jane and Frank married two months after the particularly painful incident Emma has always felt a little awkward when they argue or even make the slightest implication towards that incident six years ago.

"Well then," Emma said trying to switch the conversation back to its original topic, "sounds like a plan. Now can I have this cereal box in pink?"

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

George was trying to feed Emily again.

Emma had came home two days ago from her Tupperware Party (whatever that was he still hadn't quite worked it out) happier than she had been when she left and they instantly made up. She grew happier and more cheerful as Saturday came along and George was more than willing to let her go and see Harriet. He knew she missed Harriet more than she would admit to him and thought it was best to leave her to it after all he could use a day with just his little girl.

Saturday slowly came to an end as he chased his troublesome child, who was every bit like her mother though she looked like him in looks, away from danger and decided as a treat to let her eat her dinner in the living room while they watched a movie.

Of course Emily disapproved of the peas on her dinner and had started to hide them under the coffee table which George was now under trying to get them back on her plate. This was not an easy task as Emily kept trying to kick his face and guarded her plate fiercely as if it was a box of jewels.

Then suddenly out of nowhere Emily chirped, "Look Daddy! Mummy is on the telly!"

George let out a yelp as he bashed the top of his head on the coffee table in his hurry to crawl out from underneath it. He got out just in time to see Emma's face clear as daylight amongst the crowd of screaming women.

He groaned and pinched his nose in an attempt to prevent the oncoming headache.

"Why is it Emily," he said to his gleeful child, "that your mother can never stay out of trouble when she's in London?"

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

The moment Emma saw George waiting for her on the platform she knew she was in trouble.

George would have never waited for her on the platform without Emily and she couldn't see her darling girl anywhere and he would have never lost Emily in a million years, too much practise from when she was a little girl unfortunately. It was something Emily was never going to forgive her for when her father catches her in trouble. Obviously George left Emily at her father's or maybe even called Miss Bates to babysit so he could tell Emma off without Emily witnessing it. They had both agreed to keep all arguments away from Emily; they didn't want her to disobey them when they tell her to stop screaming just because she heard them scream at one another before.

Taking a deep breath Emma went out to brave the ire of her husband.

"Hello darling," she said cheerfully.

"Don't _hello darling_ me as if nothing has happened, Emma Knightly," George snapped, "I saw you clear as daylight on the news. What on earth were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt, or arrested, or worse hospitalised."

"Oh honestly George I can take care of myself," Emma rolled her eyes, "I had to do this. It's not fair how we get treated. Why shouldn't a woman earn the same wage as a man? Keep her job no matter how many children she has? Or even better why can't a woman have the same job as a man. There are still plenty of jobs that don't allow women, like the police! We're just as good as you lot, in fact I think we could do it better than you."

"That may be, Emma," George said gritting his teeth, "but life is rarely fair and you need to get used to that."

This caused one of the worst arguments they ever had which escalated very quickly into a screaming match the moment they entered the front door to their home.

"YOU NEVER SUPPORT ME IN ANYTHING!" Emma screamed at George's back. "WHATEVER I DO OR WANT NEVER MEETS YOUR APPROVAL!"

"_**I **_NEVER SUPPORT YOU?!" George whirled round looking furious. The last time Emma had seen his face that red was during a rather comical moment it was quite a surprise to see it so red in an argument. DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH I HAVE SUPPORTED YOU IN EVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO DO FROM BALLET LESSONS WHEN YOU WERE FIVE TO RUNNING OFF TO LONDON WHEN YOU WERE NINETEEN. I AM NOTHING BUT A BALL OF SUPPORT FOR YOUR FLIGHTS OF FANCIES!"

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Emma hissed.

"You know full well what it means Emma, I always support you, I do nothing but support you, it is you who never support me," George said harshly, "you keep saying that women need equal rights but you forget that in this household it is the men who need more rights."

"That is not true!" Emma protested. "I have always supported you when there was something you wanted to do!"

"No you haven't!"

"Yes I have!"

"No you haven't!"

"Yes I have!"

"No you haven't!"

"Yes I ha-"

The argument was suddenly cut off as the landing light went out plunging the couple into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: warning there is character death, swearing, and perhaps some out of character-ness. **

Emily didn't understand what was going on.

The day Mummy was on telly was the day everything suddenly changed. Daddy got mad and left Emily with Grandpa which Emily didn't mind because Grandpa's house is nice and warm and she got to sleep in a big soft bed with curtains, just like a princess would, and then suddenly she was home again and Mummy was crying and the lights weren't turning on.

Daddy looked very grim and Mummy hasn't smiled for almost two weeks. Auntie Isabella and Uncle John have come to visit and usually it's a happy time and they all laugh and do fun things like picnics and snowball fights. This time Auntie Isabella is near tears and her many cousins don't want to play at all.

Then today they spent a very long time in church wearing black. Emily didn't like her black dress it made her itchy and hot but Daddy wouldn't let her change dresses or even scratch when she was in the church. Then they all went home where there was lots of food on the table like a party only no one was happy and no one was playing games like musical chairs or singing happy birthday to someone.

Emily went to find Mummy after all she would know what was going on. She beamed when she found Mummy in the kitchen with Auntie Harriet; she really likes Auntie Harriet because Auntie Harriet told some of the best stories and sang the best lullabies.

"Mummy," Emily said as she wrapped her arms round her Mummy's legs, Mummy was also wearing black but her skirt felt nice under Emily's cheek and she rubbed her face against it. "Mummy where's Grandpa?"

That was another thing Emily didn't understand. After that night she saw Mummy on the telly she hasn't seen Grandpa at all. They haven't gone to see him, he hasn't come round to see them, and he hasn't showed up at this terrible party either.

Mummy suddenly let out a loud sob and Daddy came running into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her.

"Let's leave Mummy in peace, Emily," Auntie Harriet murmured as she pulled Emily away from Mummy, "why don't we go into the living room and have some cake?"

"I don't want cake," Emily snapped, "I want to know where Grandpa is!"

Mummy let out another son and Daddy is now holding her closer to him. "Harriet please," Daddy said in the same tone when Emily has refused to eat her greens five times and he's very tired with the fight.

"Come with me and I'll tell you where Grandpa is," Auntie Harriet said tugging Emily away from Mummy.

Emily went with Auntie Harriet because she had no choice. Mummy was crying too much, Daddy was too busy trying to cheer Mummy up, and neither of them will answer her question. No one will actually, not Miss Bates who talks too much, not Mrs Weston or her husband, not her cousins, not her Uncle John who usually tells her everything, and especially not her Auntie Isabella who was crying just as much as Mummy. Going with Auntie Harriet was the only way she was going to get her answer.

Auntie Harriet took Emily up to her bedroom and sat her on the bed before kneeling down in front of her. Emily admired her pretty face and beautifully braided hair, Auntie Harriet was one of the prettiest ladies Emily knows and she was the only lady she knows that has such lovely dark skin, Emily wondered if she went somewhere very hot she could make her skin darken like that.

"Emily," Auntie Harriet said nervously. Emily wondered why she was so nervous, was the truth something very, very bad? "Emily, sweetheart...you know that the lights go off sometimes?"

Emily nodded. "Daddy says they're power cuts because the country is poor," she said.

She didn't understand how the country could be poor because the country isn't a person, is it?

"Yes...well...a couple weeks ago Highbury got its first power cut," Auntie Harriet said slowly. Emily wants to know where she's going with this one. "And it took quite a few people by surprise...unfortunately your Grandpa was on the stairs and he was so surprised that he missed the next stair and took a terrible fall."

Emily gasped horrified. "Is he really hurt? Will he have to go to that place with lots of doctors and nurses?"

Auntie Harriet looked more nervous. "I'm...I'm afraid Grandpa didn't have the chance to," she coughed, "Emily...Grandpa is very happy where he is. He's gone to heaven you see, to be with your grandmother and all of the angels, he can't come back to earth but he will watch over you and...And as long as you wrap up and eat your greens he will be proud of you."

Emily felt tears burning in her eyes. She knew what heaven was, she heard about it from Miss Bates when her mother died, it was a place people went and never came back. A place they go when they died but Grandpa couldn't be dead.

He just couldn't be!

Emily wailed and sobbed helplessly against Auntie Harriet as she stroked her hair and held her tightly just like Daddy was doing for Mummy.

As her tears dried up and her eyes started to close Emily heard the soft hums and rich words of the lullaby Auntie Harriet always sings when she babysits.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

Emma hasn't given up the fight for her rights.

She's just put them on hold since life and death has gotten in the way and her family has needed her more than ever. And she needed them just as much. She needed to be held and loved by George, and she needed to hold and love Emily, and she needed to comfort Isabella and have her do the same, and she needed to keep her nephews and nieces calm so John could actually think about what to do. Her father left the house to both Emma and Isabella and they were trying to sort things out legally which meant John was doing all the work.

The months trickled past and she had to put her fight on hold once more. Her argument with George the night her father died had never been ended properly and in seeking comfort from George she had dropped all anger at him and clung to him tightly. Whether he had forgotten or resolved his anger towards her she doesn't know but what she does know is he would never let her out on the march again.

Not while she was pregnant.

She spent most of her nights downstairs while there was power cut and it had become a family tradition for George to light a fire and Emily to curl in his lap as he read to her. Emily stares at her mother more and more in awe the larger her belly got.

Then at last Emma felt her waters break and George rushed her to the hospital. They ended up stuck in the waiting room and as George hurried around trying to find the midwife, to get Emma into the maternity ward, to do _something_, Emma could feel her time coming nearer and nearer.

"Where, the bloody hell, are the nurses?" Emma gasped as she clutched tightly onto George's shoulders. Her contractions were two minutes apart and the baby was about to come out right here and now the rate things are going.

"They're...they're on strike," George said sheepishly, "I forgot about that in the rush of everything."

Emma let out a harsh scream as a particularly painful contraction hit. She dug her nails into George's shoulders causing him to yelp as she moaned painfully. She could practically feel the baby's head starting to breach.

She was going to have the baby right here, right now; in the waiting room with George has her only midwife because they had all gone on strike to have better wages and rights.

Someone up there really hates her.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," she hissed.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

They called him Henry James Knightly.

She insisted on him being named after her father whose untimely death did lead to his conception and she had missed the man who raised her dearly in the last few months. Her father would have hated how the country has quickly slumped into a downhill state. Lights were still going on and off, women were gathering in the streets screaming for their rights, unemployment was rising, and as she was breastfeeding her son she could see on the news that people were actually considering getting rid of their monarchy.

Her father adored the monarchy. Governments were changeable but the Queen would remain the security and stability that this country needed. The only thing that could change the monarchy was death and considering how healthy and well looked after the Queen was there wasn't going to be a death anytime soon.

"The country is going to the dogs," Emma said shutting her eyes for a moment.

"The government will sort it out eventually, Emma," George said gently, "you'll see in a couple years time we'll be wondering if this had just been a bad dream or not."

Emma snorted. "What use is the government? There has been no change at all! If it wasn't for the fact it would make my father roll in his grave I might agree with the republicans!" she began to rant, little Henry made a disgruntled noise as his dinner was being disturbed. "I mean come on all this money they're giving for Princess Anne's wedding when it could be used to make change. To stop these blackouts, to create new jobs for the unemployed, for giving women better wages, when the hell is the Labour party going to change anything?"

"Slow and steady wins the race, you know that," George said patiently.

"I'm not a child that needs to be taught her proverbs, George!" Emma snapped.

"I know that," George mumbled a little taken back. He then stood up and slowly made his way towards Emma and held his arms out. "Give him to me and have a lie down, you look exhausted, beautiful as always, but exhausted."

Emma smiled weakly at the compliment. "I can't bring myself to go upstairs," she admitted. The sun was close to setting and any minute it will be time to turn the lights on and what if they suddenly went off when she was half way up the stairs?

She was terrified she would die the same way as her father and end up leaving her two children alone with George.

Not that George isn't a great father but he can't breastfeed for starters and she can just imagine the nightmare Emily would have once she reaches her teens. George still blushes and gets very awkward when she mentions that she's on her period _now_, what on earth would he be like when their daughter gets her first one and Emma isn't there to deal with it?

"Lie down on the sofa," George said firmly, he turned away to turn the television off, "I'll be quiet as a mouse over here and you can have some sleep."

Emma smiled again as she shut her eyes.

Before she drifted to sleep she felt him drape his jacket over her and kiss her forehead.

He really was too good for her.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

It was one of those bad days.

Henry wouldn't stop crying, Emily was constantly misbehaving, and George was nowhere to be seen. In all fairness George was just in London dealing with some finance business but it still left Emma a hand short in dealing with their children who certainly inherited her headstrong behaviour. After chasing after Emily who decided to hide all of her brother's nappies, draw on the walls, and refuse outright to eat any of her greens, and then trying to calm Henry who started wailing at any noise, Emma wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

Finally she got Henry settled down and pinned her daughter down in time for her bath so she too could go to bed and let Emma have some rest.

Emily wiggled in a desperate attempt to escape from Emma's firm grip as Emma leaned across the bath and twisted the tap.

A dribble escaped but it quickly turned to droplets and then nothing at all.

Emma frowned and twisted the tap over and over.

Not a single drop of water.

She tried the other tap and nothing came out. She released Emily who ran down the hall with no clothes on giggling insanely as four year olds do, and rushed to the bathroom sink. No water. She rushed downstairs and tried the kitchen taps.

There was no water in the house.

What the hell is wrong with this country?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I fear the ending may be a little cheesy and clichéd so warnings for that. Sorry it took so long to update I was getting to grips with FINALLY being back in class (I haven't sat a lecture or seminar in five months, can you believe it? Longest summer ever) and I feel disgustingly sick with Fresher's Flu. Thank you for those who reviewed and I hope you enjoy this conclusion. **

This was the time of day that Emma hated the most.

What on earth was going through the government's mind when they decided Highbury is small enough for one bloody water tap? The farms surrounding Hartfield and Donwell received their own water supply for the crops and their family but those that were not farming families had to go into the village square to receive their water ration.

That was a two mile walk almost!

Two mile walk (almost) with a child, a baby, and several heavy buckets that was to be their ration for their day. Their cups of tea, their baths, their water to cook with, and of course to clean with was being lost on the way home. Emma could barely manage the buckets if she was with George let alone on her own with two children. A lot of it got lost on the fields between Highbury and home.

Considering the limitations on what Emma could use with the water it was rather understandable that her house and person was no longer as clean as it used to be. Her father must be rolling in his grave right now.

Then to top it off she had to wait in a queue for the tap usually behind or in front of Miss Bates _who won't shut up_! If she wasn't rambling about the problems with the water she was rambling about her mother's health and if she wasn't doing that she was babbling excitedly about Jane and her family, or worse about the latest piece of gossip that Emma already heard five times before that day.

"Yes, quite right, thank you Miss Bates," Emma suddenly burst out on warm Saturday afternoon (thank god it wasn't raining. There was nothing worse than doing this when it was pouring down.) "I am awfully sorry but we must go. I shall see you tomorrow."

She hauled up two of the heavy buckets and began to march off back towards home with Emily happily trailing along while pushing the pram. Emma couldn't help but smile proudly at her daughter who was focusing on taking good care of her little brother. At first Emma had been apprehensive of letting Emily push the pram, what if she accidentally pushed it into a ditch? But after a couple trial attempts, where Emma lost about a whole bucket of water due to keeping a very strict eye on her daughter, Emily proved she would be careful and gentle with the task. George caught up with them eventually also carrying two heavy buckets of water.

"That was very rude of you," he scolded gently, "to dismiss Miss Bates like that. You weren't even listening to her either."

"Don't chide me like a child," she said, "I know it was rude but I have got to get this water back home before it gets dirty. Besides I have heard it all before! I will listen to her when she has something new to say, Jane will phone on Tuesday evening, so perhaps on Wednesday?"

This caused a bickering argument between them. George was stressing the need to be polite and good to poor Miss Bates while Emma was defending her need to get away, she had the water to deal with, two children to take care of, and a job to do in the afternoon. She could not waste time listening to Miss Bates' prattling when she had heard it all before.

The argument stopped to a halt once they reached the house. Emma was about to say something that was likely to be witty enough to stump George when she saw the rubbish bin on the street. Once a week the bin men would come and empty all the bins in the morning, this year it was on a Saturday, and it was almost two o'clock in the afternoon and the bins were still full.

"Ah..." George said, "I thought I heard they were on strike."

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "It better not be a long strike," she mumbled.

She didn't need filthy surroundings on top of everything else.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

Emily loved school.

She enjoyed her lessons, she enjoyed being smart and being praised by Mummy and Daddy, and she loved playing with all her new friends. Her bestest friend is Alice Cox though she had a sort of big sister in Anna Weston. Today was like any other day, they did maths, spellings, some reading, and now it was time for break, and Emily was hoping to beat her record at skipping today,

Only it wasn't quite like any other day. As they tidied up before rushing out into the playground Mrs Goddard gave Alice Cox one of the most horrible looks Emily had ever seen. It was the same one she gave to a couple older children that Emily didn't know very well. She didn't understand why and instead of skipping like she had planned to do she ended up learning something brand new with Alice as her teacher.

"Mrs Goddard doesn't like me anymore," Alice said sadly, "because my Mummy and Daddy are now divorced."

"What's divorced?" Emily asked.

"it's a horrible thing where Mummies and Daddies no longer love each other and decide to never see one another ever again," Alice whispered, "the Daddy moves out and only comes to see you on weekends while the Mummy has to pay for everything instead."

Emily's eyes widened. "How do a Mummy and Daddy get divorced?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. They need something called a lawyer but I know a Mummy and Daddy only get divorced if they argue lots," Alice said, "my Mummy and Daddy had been arguing for months and months before they got divorced."

Alice started to cry and Emily was so busy trying to cheer her up that she didn't get to ask any more questions. She wanted to know what Mr and Mrs Cox had argued about, she wanted to know if it was about the lights, the water, the rubbish, Miss Bates, and woman's rights, because that seemed to be all her Mummy and Daddy talked about and it was always in an argument.

As they were forced back into class Emily's tummy began to hurt with dread.

What if her Mummy and Daddy got divorced too?

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

"Mummy?"

Emma stopped peeling potatoes and turned to face her daughter. It had been a long and tiresome day and they both looked equally tired. Emily also looked very worried, upset, and nervous, far too nervous for Emma's liking. She also didn't speak immediately like she usually did when Emma turned round to face her. Worried that there was something wrong with Emily, like a stomach virus or something, Emma put down the knife and knelt down to her daughter's height, tucking a loose part of her dark brown hair behind her ear. It must have escaped from her ponytail during school today.

"Yes, Emily?" she asked hoping to prompt an answer.

She got her wish. "Mummy," Emily repeated hesitatingly, "Are you and Daddy going to get a divorce?"

Emma was silent for a moment, having been a curious and adventurous child herself there had been little Emily could do to shock her, and this was one of those rare moments where Emily thoroughly shocked her. "Why on earth would you think such a thing?" she demanded to know once her brain started to work again.

"Alice Cox's parents are divorced," Emily explained, "And Alice said they argued all the time before it happened. You and Daddy always argue."

"Oh sweetheart, I wouldn't worry," Emma said softly as he pulled her daughter in close. "Mummy and Daddy argue but it is a good sort of arguing. We're sorting our problems and we're telling each other how we feel. Sometimes we might say a bad thing when we're angry but we _always _sort it out later. Daddy and I will never get divorced."

She wouldn't let George Knightly walk out on her. She was incredibly selfish like that. Not that she really needed to be, George knew the very best and the very worst of her, he always had known, and it never changed one jot on how he feels about her. He had made that very clear several times in their marriage. George's kind, patient, loyal qualities always made Emma feel like the bad guy in their marriage. If George was being as impossible as she was she wouldn't be so patient with him.

Oh wait, he was being impossible right now that's why they were arguing again!

"Really?"

Emma snapped out of her thoughts in time to catch her daughter's hopeful question with its matching hopeful expression. Emily's dark brown eyes were as bright as the sun they were shining so much hope.

"Really," Emma said reassuringly, "now go and clean up. Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"What are we having?" Emily asked now back to her usual cheerful self.

"Lots and lots of green vegetables."

Emily groaned while Emma laughed merrily as she continued to prepare dinner. It was moments like this that made life a tiny bit easier than it really was.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

George stepped into the election box and closed the curtain behind him.

Today was the day.

The day he and Emma had been fighting about for the last month. Despite their wealth, despite their technical gentry' background, and despite their old fashioned influences in their fathers, George and Emma had always been ardent Labour supporters. They always held the belief that the lower classes needed representation that unions should get their due, and the world should be just a little easier for those from poorer circumstances. Every election they had voted for Labour since they were of age and now suddenly it had changed.

The Conservative Party was becoming more and more appealing to the country as England sunk further and further into problems.

They had a solution for every problem there seemed to be. Those who were tired of blackouts, were tired of having to share one tap with the whole village, tired, and quite frankly disgusted, of the growing pile of rubbish in their garden wanted a change in government.

George was more reluctant to vote the Conservatives in. He had no doubt once the issues were resolved they would be stuck with a government that cared more about the rich minority than the poor majority. He had no doubt given more time the current government could resolve the issues they have.

The Conservatives new appeal wasn't just because of the country crumbling around them. They were appealing and popular amongst the people – the women especially – because of Margret Thatcher. The Leader of their Party was a woman, and all those women out there who marched for their rights were eager to give a woman power of the country no matter what Party she was from.

When he had pointed this out to Emma it caused her to snap.

"It has nothing to do with the fact that she's a woman!"

"Uh-huh," George has said disbelievingly, "and if there was a man in charge of the Conservative Party, you would still vote for them?"

"Yes!" Emma cried out. "Because if you haven't noticed the Labour Party has been bloody useless in the last few years."

"It has not!"

"Look outside the window George! They haven't solved anything! I'm certain that we have _rats _in the garden!" Emma was a little hysterical at this point. "Do you want our children to grow up like this? Do you want them to sit through blackouts, hike for their water, get ill because of their filthy surroundings, and barely go anyway with their lives because of one strike or the other? Do you want Emily to be refused any opportunity simply because she's a woman? Do you want our boy to fall down the stairs and die like his namesake?"

George had tried to soothe Emma, who at this point was now in tears, but she wouldn't let him near her. She continued to cry quietly for the rest of the hour before cleaning herself up and sorting dinner out for the children. She didn't even look or speak to him when he said goodnight and he knew she waited until he was dead to the world before she climbed into bed beside him.

He hated this silence between them.

He hated the arguments.

He hated seeing Emma cry.

He hated Emily's hesitant questions about whether or not her own parents would get divorced. And he hated even more her ever growing disbelieve in their answers.

He hated the circumstances everyone was living in right now because Emma was right this wasn't the sort of world he wanted his children to grow up in.

The current government was doing nothing to help.

So he ticked the little box, placed his card into the box containing all the other votes, and walked out with his head held high.

He might be just one person with one measly vote but one vote could always make the difference.

He just hoped his would.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW

Emma hadn't spoken to George for a whole day and already it was killing her. She hadn't _**not**_ spoken to him since before they were married and even then it was under some extreme circumstances.

They ate dinner in silence once again and with a mumbled awkward good night they went to bed without a kiss or hug. Emma didn't know what George thought about this but to her it was murder. She hated not having him in her life properly. She hated not speaking to him. She hated not hearing him tease and chide her, to not have him kiss her, to not feel his arms round her, and worse of all she hated the fact that he cannot see that for this time she was right.

Damn her pride.

After a bad night sleep in which as soon as she managed to drift off her alarm jarred her back to consciousness they made their way into the living room to watch the morning news.

It was time to see if history was going to be made today.

There was a few tense moments as the BBC took time to start airing during which George used the last of the water to make them cups of tea. They sat there waiting grimly until the television suddenly made a noise and the usual theme music of the BBC News filled the room.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen," the news reader said, "For our first story as you must be all eager to hear is history has been made. Today we see the rise of the first ever female Prime Minister; the Conservatives have won majority three hundred and thirty nine seats making Margret Thatcher-"

Emma had the urge to jump up and down and cheer like a child at this. She refrained from saying something though and tried to stop smiling when she turned to face George. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Whatever for, Emma?" George asked looking bewildered. Emma was used to having that effect on him; she never ceases to confuse him it seems.

"I know you wanted Labour to win," she said, "that you don't trust the Tories to do what's right...and I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day."

"Emma," George said suddenly cupping her face. She revelled at his touch it had felt like years instead of days since he touched her. She leaned into the warmth of his hands and tried to avoid looking into his eyes. "Emma you were right."

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself," George joked lightly.

"I think I might, and get someone to record it for me so I can replay it to you whenever we argue," Emma teased.

Their eyes met and they chuckled together sharing the same old joke. The argument was forgiven now. At least Emma was forgiven as George continued nonetheless. "I meant you are right about the world our children should grow up in. The previous government wasn't doing anything to help...so I voted for Thatcher."

"You went against your principles for me?" Emma asked wonderingly.

"You know that I would do anything for you."

Emma flung her arms round his neck and dragged him down into a kiss. Everything was going to change. It may not be for the better but these things were always hard to predict. Whatever does happen though she and George were going to watch history be made and they were going to do it together.

It was needless to say that nine months into Margret Thatcher's regime their third child was born.


End file.
